Like a kid in a lolly shop

Peter Gago reckons he has the best job in the world. Just one of the perks is consuming (er, tasting) 50 vintages of Penfolds Grange, writes Jane Faulkner.

Try as you might, it's hard not to be just a bit envious of Peter Gago. In the past few months, he's tasted more Grange, the iconic red, than any other person, and not just the current release either, but a consecutive tasting of 50 vintages. For Gago, it's a perk of the job. As chief winemaker at Penfolds, he is the custodian of the Grange legacy and legend.

As to that consecutive tasting, in a sense it was historic. It's likely to be the last complete tasting of every Grange, from the first experimental 1951 vintage to the unreleased 2000: some have passed or are reaching their use-by date.

The tasting was conducted so that independent judges could assess Grange and hundreds of other wines as part of The Rewards of Patience - which Gago calls the "form guide for Penfolds" - a book about drinking and cellaring its wines. It's being updated, with the fifth edition due out early this year. No other winery has such a publication.

So Mr Gago, you have the best job? "It's a terrific job! And with some of the tastings and dinners I go to, I think 'I get paid to do this? How bizarre.' I'm like a kid in a lolly shop."

Except this is big kids' stuff - the adult world where Gago hobnobs with influential people, including winemakers from exclusive houses in Europe and serious buyers of Grange. Yet he's somewhat chuffed that the frontman for the rock group Tool, Maynard James Keenan, bought at auction in April, before its release, an imperial (equivalent to eight bottles) of the 1998 Grange. Let's put that in context: he paid $71,000 for it and that roughly works out at $1110 a glass.

A couple of weeks ago, Gago returned from a whirlwind tour of Europe as a guest of Decanter magazine to conduct a wine masterclass. He was in the company of winemakers from Chateau Mouton-Rothschild, one of the greats of Bordeaux, and Chateau Cheval Blanc, one of the finest from Saint-Emilion.

That trip was on the back of another in October to New York, Chicago and Canada, where he was invited to take part in the prestigious Banff 12th Spring Wine Show - again with some impressive wine houses. To his knowledge, Penfolds was the only one asked to return next year.

What is Gago doing right? "Oh it's not about me. It's the wine, that's a given. Besides, when we can show 20-, 30- and 40-year-old examples of aged Australian wines, then that incurs a whole new seriousness. We're in a position where we can hold court on occasion," he says.

No doubt he's a polished public relations performer. That's not a criticism. Gago is engaging and loves talking about wine. It is, however, difficult to separate the man from the brand - Gago admits he's "somewhat myopically Penfolds". He remains steadfast: he's carrying on with a tradition bestowed upon him - the hard work that's gone on before him to make Grange what it is today, Australia's greatest wine.

But it's not all Grange, Grange, Grange. The Penfolds brand is vast, he says, and mentions the latest experiments - reserve pinot noir, sangiovese and the release early next year of Barossa Valley bushvine grenache and Yattarna, "not necessarily the white Grange", in a screw-cap. Some exciting stuff.

Yet Gago's mark in life could have been very different, if not for his wife Gail, now a Labor politician in the South Australian Government. After graduating with a bachelor of science from Melbourne University, he spent the early 1980s teaching maths and chemistry. Loved it. In the meantime, Gail, who started out in nursing, decided to complete a course in neuro-psychology at Monash University. "When she finished the degree, she said, 'Now it's your turn,' " says Gago. "I said, 'What do you mean?'" Her answer: "Now's the time to do what you really want to do."

Gago was 29. "I could become vice-principal soon if I play my cards right," he considered, "and maybe in 20 years become a principal. But nothing ventured, nothing gained. And it was the grip of the grape, to refer to that overused term, that clinched it. The more you find out about wine, the more you're drawn into it. Then all of a sudden you want to make it and you start dabbling. It's not an addiction, it's more a magnetic thing."

The couple moved to South Australia so he could complete a degree in applied science (oenology) at Roseworthy, and he ended up as dux. In 1989, Gago started at Penfolds. What an ascension - after 14 years he's in the top job. Only three other great winemakers have had the privilege - the legendary Max Schubert, the Grange creator, Don Didder, now in his 70s, and John Duval.

In the 17 months since taking the job, Gago has clocked up enough frequent-flyer points to last a lifetime, and along the way has had to eat horse, sashimi-style, and conduct the world's biggest tutored wine masterclass, in Las Vegas: 1200 people tasted 10 Grange vintages, an invitation-only event organised by Wine Spectator.

The same magazine rated the 1990 Grange wine of the year in 1995 (Grange is aged for five years before its release) and the 1955 as one of the 12 great wines of the 20th century.

That's the heritage Gago is dealing with and upholding. Such a rigorous schedule is not to everyone's liking. And flicking through his diary, Gago quips: "I should be clinically dead!"

And what about winemaking? That's easy. Vintage, usually the final week of February to the second week of May, is what he declares "a no-fly zone".